I’ve sat and looked at this screen, day after day and hour by hour, so unsure of what to say. It’s a frightening thing, being so unsure of what to say. I know that in what seems a lifetime ago, the words tripped over themselves trying to get onto the page. Perhaps even more frightening is being afraid that what I say is just taking up someone’s time without purpose.

OMG I thought, what if, after all this dithering around, what I write is just a waste of time. Now I realise that it isn’t. I’m writing for myself at the moment. I have to, at least until my “mojo” decides to get itself together and understands that this is what writing is all about. The courage to keep talking about what I think about – whether it’s a story or a “simple blog” – is the key to the magic.

So, for today it’s a simple blurb to say “hello”, “I’m here, not quite sure if you will hear me or not, but that’s okay. I’ve made the first step, a giant leap for me today”

Image courtesy cover_not_living_in_fear..anon

“Laugh, even when you feel too sick or too worn out or tired. Smile, even when you’re trying not to cry and the tears are blurring your vision. Sing, even when people stare at you and tell you your voice is crappy. Trust, even when your heart begs you not to. Twirl, even when your mind makes no sense of what you see. Frolick, even when you are made fun of. Kiss, even when others are watching. Sleep, even when you’re afraid of what the dreams might bring. Run, even when it feels like you can’t run any more. And, always, remember, even when the memories pinch your heart. Because the pain of all your experience is what makes you the person you are now. And without your experience—you are an empty page, a blank notebook, a missing lyric. What makes you brave is your willingness to live through your terrible life and hold your head up high the next day. So don’t live life in fear. Because you are stronger now, after all the crap has happened, than you ever were back before it started.”
―Alysha Speer

I’ve read some amazing blogs during my “sabbatical” which have made me hope to visit strange and wonderful places, see the wide vistas, empty ranges and places filled with flora and fauna I have never seen before. There are too many writers out there to thank for this inspiration, yet to one and all I say a heartfelt “Thank You, I will visit these places, not just in my mind from your words and photos, but in person, to feel and experience these people and places”.

I’ve read about your battles with your demons, whatever they are. I’ve felt the strength you’ve shown in writing about it. I’ve felt my struggles are pitiful when aligned next to yours – and in the end I know that I have to put that aside too. We all have a right to our struggles, our physical demons. We can allow ourselves to be overwhelmed by them. We can use the pathos of our situation to keep calling people back, or we can simply say, “Hey, this happened and it can happen to you, so keep going and after you’ve told me about it, leave it and keep going.” Our stories are important – to us, and sometimes to others, so if we are unsure, write for yourselves. Write your hearts blood on the page, your fear, shout out and tell the world, because it’s the silence which is deadly. It’s that simple thing, the silence we strive for at other times which is often holding us back.

The silence of emptiness.

Image courtesy of maxresdefault

“All that is left to bring you pain, are the memories. If you face those, you’ll be free. You can’t spend the rest of your life hiding from yourself; always afraid that your memories will incapacitate you, and they will if you continue to bury them.” ― J.D. Stroube, Caged in Darkness

∼

This caught my attention and I thought, Wow, that’s exactly what I was thinking. So I know that I’m not alone.

I’m simply human – I fell off the bandwagon in truth… not once but several times. I have the bruises and scars to show for it! Today was just one more day in the struggle to “be”. It’s boring in its simplicity, my damned back is being a pain in ways I never believed possible. Simplicity itself – I leaned on something which moved when I thought it would stay where it was. I fell… right on top of new bruises from the day before and pain flared majestically through the synapses of my brain once more. I should be used to it, but the odd thing is, you never become blasé about pain. Ask any of the people out there with Fibromyalgia…. I have it and it doesn’t take a holiday, it just decides to let you think it might be going away… til it returns once more.

I realised I said it “majestically flared through new synapses of the brain” and I realise it is that and so much more. Colours you never imagined fire through your vision and logical speech and thought are devoured in an instant.

Courtesy of wildlyfreewoman.net

“I have always been afraid… Always been pretending to follow you closely, always been pretending to sharpen my teeth, when the truth is, I am … scared to death just treading on your shadow.”― Tite Kubo

“When you say to yourself, ‘I am going to have a pleasant visit or a pleasant journey,’ you are literally sending elements and forces ahead of your body that will arrange things to make your visit or journey pleasant….Our thoughts, or in other words, our state of mind, is ever at work ‘fixing up’ things good or bad in advance.”
― Prentice Mulford, Thoughts Are Things & the Real and the Unreal: The Collected New Thought Wisdom of Prentice Mulford and Charles Fillmore

It is amazing that we can become so hung up on what has been said or done, without stopping for a moment to consider what thought has gone into that very same word or deed. We, in our constant state of rush and overwhelm, barely stop to consider that each thought we have can have many consequences.

Take, for example, the father, trying to get ready for a day at work, also trying to spend a few minutes with his family before they leave to start their day at kindy, school or day-care. The thought slips into his head that there is a big job to do today, and he will be more than lucky if he finishes before dark. He may not see his children before they have to go to bed. His toddler appears beside him, half crying to be picked up and cuddled. Before he has a chance to consider his actions, he snaps “I haven’t time to molly coddle spoiled little brats, go see your mother!” He gets up, stomps out of the house slamming the door behind him.

In one brief second, a thought about a possibly long job at work has spoilt a special moment with his little child and not only made her cry but also made him feel like a ‘bad Dad’ and set a train of events in motion which could very well ensure that the thought of the job which started all this, turning into a huge nightmare as everything seems to go wrong.

His one thought had disastrous consequences for his words to his child (and possibly her mother) and probably caused a string of events which make his day a veritable nightmare.

“In the spiritual life every person is his or her own discoverer, and you need not grieve if your discoveries are not believed in by others. It is your business to push on find more and increase individual happiness”

― Prentice Mulford, Thoughts Are Things

Now take a look at a harassed mother, trying to get her children ready for school, kindy, before she has to dash off to work. The little one is fractious and just wants to be held and she hasn’t the time if she is to reach work on schedule. She takes a deep breath and pacifies the toddler, distracting him with his teething rusk and she dashes off to get their lunches ready. Her phone beeps, and there is the reminder that she has a client arriving as soon as she reaches work. With the traffic as bad as it has been she is never going to make that appointment on time. She hates to be late for appointments. She feels annoyed that she always has to get the children ready. Her husband starts later than her, yet here she is every day, trying so hard to make such a tight schedule. It’s simply not fair!

There is a frustrated wail from the playpen and as she dashes in she sees the family dog slinking out of the room, rusk clamped firmly between his teeth, tail between his legs. Picking up the baby she is thinking that she will never get to work on time, only to see two rusk begrimed hands clamped onto her freshly ironed blouse. “Dammit” she cries, now I have to change, I’m going to run late all day!”

The blouse she chooses pops a button at work, the clients are feisty because she seems distracted, her boss is grumpy because the client are unhappy and she feels worse by the moment. She begins to wonder if the Australian dream is just a dream.

Her one thought at the beginning of the day, that it was unfair that she had the child rearing hassles followed by “I’m going to be running late all day” set her up for exactly that kind of day.

“But no one experience should be followed and dwelt in forever. Life in its more perfected state will be full of alterations–not a rut, into which if you are once set you must continually travel.”
― Prentice Mulford, Thoughts Are Things

What so many of us forget, or have not yet found out, is that “Thoughts are things” and everything we put our energy into, with our thoughts, we have the ability to make manifest in our daily lives. With a small amount of energy used on positive affirmations we can make the day great from start to finish. It has been shown to do just that. Those problems we have been inundated with in the past, simply slide on by and we have an amazingly peaceful day.

With the choice of the right affirmation, and there are hundreds to choose from, we can turn our days into blissful ones. We can manifest wonderful things for ourselves and our loved ones. We can send loving thoughts to ill relatives, our sick planet and see our loved ones well and the planet regain its vigour and blossom again.

“Thoughts are things” and we need to remember that with each thought, each word and every single action we take because everything we do creates a reverberation around the planet. We can create miracles. Prentice Mulford, whose quotes I’ve deliberately chosen knows this. Check out her book, it is truly incredible.

“From this point forth, we shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into thickets of wildest guesswork.”― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Have you ever stopped to wonder why words cause so many difficulties? After all they’re only words, the means by which we convey our thoughts and feelings. Yet so many times, what is a simple and forgettable word to one person, can be a veritable insult to another. Is it any wonder that there are so many hurt feelings and arguments over what we mean by the words we say to each other?

Many are the words uttered in anger, or whilst feeling under pressure or stress. Do these words mean the same thing if they were said whilst calm and unpressured? I rather doubt it. At least, that has been my observation.

Computers and computer programs, have the singular honour of creating the most intense feelings of frustration for many people, even over minor matters. They are such contrary machines, aren’t they? Some days, no matter how hard you try, or follow the same steps you followed the day before, the wretched program refuses to behave as it should. You’re blood pressure rises and you can feel the irritation begin to mount.

In retrospect, it is at this point that the rest of the household, or office, should embark for points north, south, east of west. Anywhere, in fact, to avoid the likely wrath to come. But no, everyone remains and the ensuing eruption of heightened emotion spills over and someone ends up feeling hurt or misunderstood.

Image courtesy of sherwoodfleming.com

“Using words to talk of words is like using a pencil to draw a picture of itself, on itself. Impossible. Confusing. Frustrating … but there are other ways to understanding.”― Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

The irony is, the person struggling with the computer, or any appliance which is being contrary, should simple mutter under their breath, except….. Someone is sure to ‘demand’ that they repeat what they have just said. I can almost guarantee that the word “Stupid” will form part of the epithet. Guaranteed! What’s even more certain, is that the person listening is going to hear that they are being called stupid. It may even sound as though that was the intention. Yet I am positive that the intention is that the computer, program, appliance, even the operator of the machine is really saying they are stupid for not getting it to work correctly. Perhaps if the person offering assistance has already pushed their help on the struggling and irate digitally challenged person, then they may mean they feel, momentarily that they are stupid for not being able to offer the solution.

However, I’m sure if you were able to ask that person what they meant, they would not have been accusing or abusing the other person of being stupid. Now we have a recipe for an even more bitter and disastrous interchange to occur. The mountain of misunderstanding rises moment by moment.

Image courtesy of twiki.org No wonder my head hurts at times.

Now we have a struggling computer person, who is definitely not nerdy, feeling even more stupid themselves, plus the person offering to help, when they should have left well enough alone, feeling hurt and offended, because they feel they’ve been abused and called stupid. What a disastrous state of affairs. Why? Because of words. Words should be used to enlighten, to assist, to love and cherish, foster loving feelings and calm hurt ones, not to abuse and enrage. A classic case of miscommunication.

So where now? Somehow, through this veritable minefield of the English language, two people have to tread warily, and hope they can untangle this knotted ball of wool. I had a ball of wool recently, so knotted up that it took two hours to untangle it… I wasn’t sure I had the patience but I did succeed in the end. I know for a fact that I cursed that wool roundly and often – without it taking offense. Luckily for me!

Human emotions are not as easy as a ball of wool. You can’t hurt the feelings of a ball of wool. You may chop it into pieces if it is really annoying and tangled, but it isn’t going to be hurt or upset. Yet here we have two people who have to walk a tightrope and hope they reach an understanding. Why is the English language so fraught with traps? What is meant by one is not meant by another and this misunderstanding of the use of the same word can cause irreparable damage. Someone, at some time, definitely did not like people conversing.

So, I’m about to try to walk the minefield of knotted logic and understanding and hope I can get my point of view across and understand theirs, so that harmony can flower in the home once more. What puzzles me the most, is that we are speaking the same language. It isn’t as though we are talking different languages and it is an interpretation problem. Or perhaps it is. Perhaps that is the missing key.

English has been added to over the centuries, as the various conquerors have added their offerings to the base language and idioms. In retrospect, it’s not surprising there are so many misunderstandings. Perhaps I should go back to school and study English again, although I fear everyone may need to so we can all be on the same wavelength.

There are times when it feels almost impossible to find out why things happen the way they do. At other times the steps you’ve taken to reach a point can be all too apparent. It doesn’t always mean that either scenario is palatable.

Several months ago I determined that I was going to push myself to my limits – and beyond, in order to help with our move, relocation to Queensland. The aches, the pains, discomfort, at times the agony and tears were expected. Not always palatable but, “I’d signed up for this” so I was aware of the possible consequences. In fact, they weren’t possible but probable consequences of suddenly throwing a body, already reduced to what felt like a meagre existence limping through each day, into what was, beyond mere normalcy when contemplating the workload of packing and unpacking a household.

Since then, and our move to Queensland, there has been more of the same. Yet along with that there was also a greater sense of achievement. Here I was after so many dreary pain filled months, achieving more than I had for such a long time. My decision to make my body work, like a normal body would, in ways it had been unable to without a great deal of pain meant I would have to accept the natural consequences. The achievement, the sense of purpose made the pain and tears and discomfort worthwhile.

As the old saying goes, “I paid in spades.” Yet, to me it was well worth it. I was doing something worthwhile. That sense of achievement long missed was a heady drug which helped me feel a little stronger, a little happier and much more contented as each day passed. Such are the things we measure our successes by.

image courtesy of howtoraiseyourvibration.blogspot.com

I have yet to find a straight road in life. In fact, I sincerely doubt there is such a thing as a straight road through life. Each road is meant to have its bends, uphill, downhill, roundabouts and the usual missed turns which send you back the way you’ve already been. I believe it’s the way we are meant to learn our lessons. Often not simply learn them but by revisiting them, ensure we really have learnt all there is from that learning experience. Cliché’s abound for this, “Two steps forward, one step back” and “Advance and Retreat” seem the most appropriate right now, and yet, that is what life is all about.

The occasional hiccough, the down day or days when things seemed to pile up and that wonderful forward momentum trickled so slowly by, came along with the rich positives. My ever patient husband was my strength and support to help me through and a very dear friend was always ready to offer sage advice and cheer me up. Just sweeping those dark clouds away helped enormously.

So What Happened? Well, Life Happened.

I needed one final visit to the “No longer Lyme doctor” to get my Genetic Genie result explained. I decided that after going to all the hassles of getting the wretched thing ordered, completed, sent away and the long wait for the results that I might as well find out what it had to say. Learning about my genetic structure seemed a fair recompense for all the pain and heartache over the past fourteen months. In reality, it seemed ludicrous not to get something valuable from this learning experience I had been given. It was also immensely intriguing. Mind boggling but intriguing.

Then he beat me to the gratifying punch line. Rather than being able to tell him I would not be returning to see him again he jumped in and said he didn’t want to see me again! Hmpf! It was, in retrospect, an odd way to put it, but the end result was the same. However, before I could say, So long, it’s been good, but”…..I was whisked into the Naturopaths office, deluged with a tonne of information and the adjuration that I needed “X,Y and Z” to correct the enzyme breaks shown in my genetic coding.

Now I’ve been through the hoops a time or two and I know how my body reacts to a great many things, especially dietary and medicinally based items. Several rather stressful episodes in the past few weeks had seen my friendly ulcer begin to act up and the attendant gastric reflux rear its burning head once more. It’s no fun at all feeling as though you have a vat of boiling acid churning inside your stomach and flowing upwards to burst out of your throat like an enraged Mount Etna! Upsetting but it was something I could get back under control with a little rest and meditation.

I did tell the Naturopath all this, explained in great detail since they seem to think you have no idea what you are talking about if you are not graphic. I explained – decisively, that anything not in capsule form would act like a gigantic irritant wreaking havoc on my stomach. I mustn’t have been clear enough. My powers of description must have deserted me since it was apparent she failed to believe me. Did I really care that these things were supposed to help my stomach and ulcer? Not if they were going to feel as if I were dying in the process.

The lowest ebb if my day is early morning at present and I was supposed to toss this vile concoction down my throat into an empty stomach to start the day. I love liquorice, but this vile stuff is not liquorice flavoured at all – it’s a pale imitation, a foil on the very word designed to befuddle and cloud the senses. Feral, foul and disgusting.

One week later and I feel too wretched to get out of bed. My throat is raw, my stomach in turmoil and the thought of a drink, not even food, is palatable. Add to that the almost indescribably migraine… what was I contemplating? This strange thought keeps circling my mind like a shark through bloody waters….”Why?” “Why did I do this to myself when I was beginning to feel so much better?” I have, yet again, paid an obscene price to once again poison myself in the name of getting well.

image courtesy of academyoffood.blogspot.com

Frustration, pain and anger, not a good mix for a stomach in turmoil. Nothing to show but a return to the nightmare and another email suggesting a garlic cleanse (eight whole cloves of garlic swallowed with water, no food for a day and febrile reaction, followed by a coffee enema). PLEASE.

NO! I’m sorry, but enough is enough. I’ve done everything I was asked to for fourteen months only to learn it was all for nothing – I don’t and never did have Lyme disease. I warned you I couldn’t tolerate this kind of natural “stuff” and what would happen and you didn’t listen, just pedaled your potions. A day in bed contemplating the next step has seen me decide that a polite but firm email is all I need to do. I am retiring from medical experimentation.

I’ve reached my place of clarity. I’ve had my hard-won taste of a return to normalcy. It was painful but it was an achievement of being able to act like everyone else. I’m not ready to take even a small step back to where I’ve been. There will be other ways to “fix” anything which may need fixing but not at the expense of my sanity and health. After all, what is health? It’s being able to live, laugh, move, do the normal things of life without pain and agony. It’s feeling loved and being loved and being able to love life again. Slowly but surely I am reaching that beautiful place and I will get there, without needing to pour copious amounts of money into someone’s pocket for pills and potions.

Postscript:

I admire and applaud all those who work in a health or alternate health capacity. What works for one may not for another and vice versa. I have recorded my feelings and responses to what I have been through and whilst they are true for me they may not be for another. I pray for good health for all people, including me. 🙂

“The illimitable, silent, never-resting thing called Time, rolling, rushing on, swift, silent, like an all-embracing ocean-tide, on which we and all the universe swim like exhalations, like apparitions which are, and then are not”…. ~Thomas Carlyle

It seems at one and the same time, absolutely incredible that not one month, nor two but almost three months have passed since I last wrote a post for Owls and Orchids. It has never been very far from my mind, yet there seems to have been a never-ending stream of events, of things, which needed to be done, or attended to and the days were gone before I knew it.

In some ways it was always going to happen, I simply didn’t think it would be such a long time. I made a promise to myself, that after the previous fourteen month of drug imposed restrictions that I was going to do as much as I could, to get the move from New South Wales to Queensland done – MY WAY!

Perhaps that was where things began to unravel. I was, at that time, still in a lot of pain and felt indescribably wretched from the copious amounts of antibiotics still in my system. My release from the Lyme induced prison had not yet relinquished its hold on me, even if I had been given the “all clear” that I did not, in fact, have, nor ever had Lyme disease. That alone sent my mind into dizzying circles, from which it was often hard to extricate myself. Yet, we had the move to our new home to arrange and I refused to sit, or lay, idly by whilst the hectic work revolved around me.

The new place in Redland Bay was a delightful enticement after the disappointments of Ocean Shores. I would miss the view of the ocean, but in reality, I had been ensconced in my four square prison and only intermittently was able to get outside to see and enjoy it. The irony is not lost on me that I have exchanged, what was supposed to be a location, filled with ocean views, fresh air, healthy and relaxing, for one which is, well, almost suburbia. I say almost, because we are a little off the beaten track, just in a small pocket of civilisation where I can access the dreaded pharmacy, much more easily visit my doctor and, a five-minute stroll arrive at a beautiful water enclosure, boardwalk, trees and filled with all manner of bird life and the occasional kangaroo and wallaby. We have yet to visit the spot where the wallabies come out in early morning and evening to get some photos – but, all in good time. The camera has yet to be downloaded of all its photos!

Falling in with the packing! Image courtesy of busybeingfabulous.com

But – THE MOVE! An interminable number of boxes seemed to parade in front of me daily, each filled and taped to be replaced by another. This, after having decided not to unpack the majority of our belongings, as we felt uncomfortable within moments of getting the keys at Ocean Shores.

I achieved more in that last month than I had for the previous fourteen. I found muscles which had been hammered in the forges of medical experimentation and proclaimed loudly their new abuse. Yet it was also a good feeling. I felt once more, that I was finally achieving something worthwhile. Time seemed, not an enemy, but a friend again.

The relocation was tiring and time-consuming as they usually are. The large spaces we had seen were rapidly engulfed by more and more boxes as the truck was unloaded. Daily more boxes were unpacked as homes for their contents were found – and yes, I was deciding where things were to be housed. It was a glorious feeling, knowing that I was arranging my kitchen, my clothes, my books, all the many things which make a house into a home. I was doing all those things once more. No longer would I wander around the house, wondering where something had been stored because I hadn’t unpacked it. Time had regained its orderly flow once more. In control and loving it – or so I like to believe. And no, I don’t believe control is the big baddy it has been made out to be.

I saw time slipping away as I rushed through each day. Image courtesy of mariana-a.deviantart.com

“Time is a very healing place, one in which you can grow.” ~Denise Tanner

Yet herein I also found my obsession again. That indefinable and inseparable part of myself which wanted everything to be placed “just so”. As things took shape around me I found a greater impetus each day to keep going, despite the increasing pain, to forge my new home into the vision I had for it. Boxes have an amazing array of hard edges and corners, a depth to them which defies normal reach and I found myself entrapped and attacked by the capriciousness of cardboard!

An unfortunate three weeks with a heavy cold cramped my style in ways I hadn’t foreseen. Frustration ran rampant, as I looked with growing dislike at the small number of boxes I had unpacked each day. This was in no way helped by an officious and supercilious doctor, who decided she knew me, my condition and what I needed more than I did after a mere five-minute consultation. So much for a simple script for antibiotics to cure the chest infection, and pain meds to help me “soldier on”. Meds I should add, which I showed her I had been prescribed by my doctor and had taken for some time. She promptly decided to re write my medication needs and refused to give me the pain meds at all. – If I’m suffering now it must be due to the uncomplimentary names I called her for several days after this visit. Needless to say, I won’t be visiting her again!
So, here we are finally. I still have my crystal display case to unpack and sort out, but that is the final item. I really prefer to leave all those fragile and sentimental items until everything else is in place. But, I’m here, and with the help of Spirit, life can begin in a new and more delightful way than ever.
Time passes and new things are found in unexpected places. Obstacles will be overcome and life can take its new path. The delights of the newly discovered will once more be mine.

Carried away on Unicorn dreams. Image courtesy of Josephine Wall Art

“Time is a brisk wind, for each hour it brings something new… but who can understand and measure its sharp breath, its mystery and its design?” ~Paracelsus

“The way I see it, our natural human instinct is to fight or flee that which we perceive to be dangerous. Although this mechanism evolved to protect us, it serves as the single greatest limiting process to our growth. To put this process in perspective and not let it rule my life, I expect the unexpected; make the unfamiliar familiar; make the unknown known; make the uncomfortable comfortable; believe the unbelievable.” ― Charles F. Glassman, Brain Drain The Breakthrough That Will Change Your Life

There’s no doubt about it when there is a big job to be done, there is nothing which makes it easier to handle than teamwork. Of course it goes without saying that everyone needs to be on the same page and marching to the same beat. If they are not, then some quite cataclysmic explosions can occur.

Many years ago, when I was working for one of the big four banks, my branch was relocated to another suburb. It caused innumerable complaints from the local residents who would be forced to try to get to the new location. Many of the locals were elderly or on the basic wage and it literally meant they would have to catch a bus just to get to the bank.

We probably wouldn’t think too much about it today, but then it was a major inconvenience, but profits trumped service even then. As bad as that was for the customers, the hardest part was the physical work necessary to move the “bank” and all its records to the new location. From close of business Friday afternoon, all over the weekend, staff and security were involved in the packing and transfer of material.

That was over two days, yet moving home, packing all your memorabilia, takes far longer. So far we have been working for over a week. In fact, we began to organise the day we secured the property.

Like most efficient organisers, first came the long lists, covering everything in stages, as we felt they were required. Starting with the setting up, the transfer or establishment of essential services. Phone calls should be a simple enough task to complete and yet they can take an inordinate amount of time. However, working together we managed to get everything done fairly smoothly.

It’s no secret that I am somewhat challenged in how much I can accomplish, physically, at present. Still, each evening we go over the days tasks, agreed on the night before and check off what we have done. The last thing we do, is agree on the “plan of attack” for the next day. The plan is working incredibly well and we have managed to make huge inroads into the mammoth task of moving.

I’m trying to keep the pain to a manageable level, despite the frustration of not being able to do as much as my mind tells me I can do. I’m not always successful, and my body quickly reminds me when my mind cashes checks my body simply cannot fulfil. In the interests of personal harmony I retreat to my room and meditate for a while. Spirit is helping in this act of keeping myself to a sensible pace.

Little by little the learning process continues and I realise how much Spirit plays an essential and wonderful part in our daily lives.

Yet, above all, the one thing which has been uppermost in my mind is the ease with which this move is so far being handled. Teamwork really can and does make things so much easier. With a partnership built on respect and trust for the other persons strengths, the division of tasks has seen a possible mammoth undertaking progress much more smoothly than I many I have seen before.

I am absolutely sure we have the Angels of translocation looking after us and aiding us in everything we do. As part of our team Spirit is aiding us with everything we need to think about and accomplish, even to helping me to step back, when necessary and relax for a time.

I regularly ask the Universe for help when I am stumped by a problem and they have never failed to provide an answer, even if it wasn’t the one I was expecting. Spirit works in mysterious ways.

I’m sure in the coming couple of weeks, Spirit, the Angels, whoever you choose to call our higher power of good, will continue to help us where they can and make the transition as easy as possible. Trust and great teamwork. Wonderful!

“When you trust your inner guidance and begin moving in the direction of your dreams (aligned with your individual gifts) you will be cloaked in an armor bestowed upon you by your guardian angel.” ― Charles F. Glassman